


Laid (James)

by Clitler



Series: Destiel Playlist [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little B&E, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Anal Sex, Cas&Dean are bad neighbors, Dean is a bit masochistic, Domestic arguments, M/M, Mild Domestic Violence, OOC characters, POV Alternating, Poor Sam, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Run Sammy Run, cross dressing kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clitler/pseuds/Clitler
Summary: Sam Winchester seriously regrets moving in next door to his brother and Cas.





	Laid (James)

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is a bit of a departure from my norm, but, well, I'm in a mood today.

Laid (James)

**Sam**

            He didn’t even register the noises from next door until the latest thump rattled the far wall of his bedroom, the wall he used to have his bed set up against because it caught the morning sunlight as it filtered in through the expensive bamboo blinds he had splurged on for the entire apartment.  Sam liked to wake up gently, with the sun, and since he didn’t have to be in to work until 10, he was finally at a point in his life where he could enjoy those blinky-stretchy-good-morning-Mr.-Sun kind of wake ups.  Well, at least he had for the first three days in his new apartment.  By Day Three, he had already begun to regret the amazing deal Dean had gotten him on the rent-controlled two-bedroom next door to his own when his elderly neighbor lady kicked the bucket.  The poor woman had been a life-long spinster, Cas’ childhood piano teacher.  So enamored had she been of Cas and later, Dean, that she had signed over the lease to her apartment to the happy couple.  Only as he and Dean had been hauling his extra-long couch from the freight elevator and down the back hallway had Dean mentioned Mildred had been stone deaf the last five years of her life.  That should have been Sam’s first clue.

 

            Another thump, accompanied by a muffled cry, rattles the framed print Sam never moved over to the wall with the closet and he sighed, dropping the pair of jeans he was trying to fold.  He walked over to the wall he shared with his brother and Cas and carefully removed the print, pulling the hanger off the wall, as well.  He didn’t bother banging back anymore, that only seemed to encourage them.  Instead, he set the print down on top of his half-folded laundry and went into the kitchen to make some tea.  He could hardly hear anything in the kitchen.  It had recently gone from barely-used room of necessity to God-sent refuge.  He settled at the table with his mug of tea and stack of depositions and set to reading through the latest in the case of Mitchell v. Rosteller.  A not entirely unexpected knock at the front door interrupted his brief respite a few moments later.

 

            Unlocking the five different deadbolts, chain locks and floor bolt that Dean had installed the day before he moved in ( _This is New York fucking City, Sam, not fucking Lawrence, Kansas_ ), Sam opened his door without even bothering to look through the peep hole.  His brother stood there, hands braced at shoulder height on the door frame, breathing heavily.  He grinned up at Sam, dark-red lipstick smeared off the left side of his mouth, right side intact.  His lavender eye shadow really made his green eyes pop, though, Sam had to admit.  The almost-shear floral patterned, floor-length sheath dress wasn’t doing his broad shoulders any favors, however.

 

            “Hey ya, Sammy,” he smirked crookedly, “can I get your spare key?”

 

            Sam leaned on the wall of the entryway, arms crossed over his chest, “I gave it to you Tuesday and you never brought it back.”  Sam had had to go for a very long run Tuesday night after Dean got back into his apartment.

 

            “Shit,” Dean mumbled.  He looked back at his own apartment door and Sam followed his gaze, just in time to see Cas open the door quickly to throw a large purple dildo out into the hall.

 

            “HEY!” Dean yelled, running to the door and pounding his fist on the ancient-looking door.  “OPEN             THE GODDAMN DOOR, CAS, YOU SONOFABITCH!”

 

            Through the door, Sam could easily hear Cas’ reply, “ _I’M PUTTING THE STOCKINGS DOWN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL!”_

 

            Banging on the door in earnest now, Dean screamed, “YOU BETTER FUCKING NOT, CAS!  DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THOSE COST?!?!”  Dean turned around, picked up the dildo, and stomped back over to Sam.

 

            “I’m going through the fire escape,” he gritted out as he shoved past Sam and into his apartment.

 

            “Dean, Dean, wait!” Sam called as he chased Dean through the apartment, only to find Dean halfway out the living room window, “You can’t jump over in a _dress_!” he hissed at his brother.

 

            Dean looked down at himself and laughed, “Fuck, you’re right,” was all he said as he gripped the dress’ sweetheart neckline and _pulled_ , ripping the thin material from his body.  A few more solid tugs freed the rest of the skirt from his legs and he shoved the torn dress at Sam.  “Throw this away, will ya?”

 

            Sam took the filmy material unthinkingly, mouth agape at what Dean had on under the dress.  Sam didn’t even know they made lingerie for men, but this was clearly designed to flatter a man’s more muscular body, thankfully containing all his brother’s, um, assets, also.  Dean was out the window and on the rail of the fire escape before Sam could even fully process this new development.  He tried very hard not to notice the whitish mess in the general vicinity of Dean’s ass.  Sam ducked under the open sash and watched his brother leap the one-foot gap, landing gracefully on his own fire escape rail, dildo in hand, arms pinwheeling for a split-second before he grabbed the ladder leading to the floor above with his free hand.  Dean looked back at Sam briefly and winked before jumping down to the landing, his weight shaking drops of water and flakes of rusting metal loose to float to the landing below. 

 

            Sam kept watching as Dean threw open their living room window, shouting, “Surprise, motherfucker!” as he climbed in to his own living room.  His entrance was followed by a crash and his brother’s shout of “Great, I’m bleeding! You happy now, Cas?” and the unmistakable sounds of actual cooing coming from Cas.  Dean’s rumbling, “It’s fine.  I’m sorry, babe,” was abruptly cut off when one of them slammed the window shut.  Sam leaned back into his own apartment and shut his window, locking it in case Dean had any notions of coming back that way any time soon.  Looking down at the ruined dress in his hand, he decided that now would be an excellent time for another long run.

 

 

 

**Dean**

            “Fuck…baby, yeah…ungh…yeah, fuckfuckfuck…” Dean moaned, eyes closed.  He was so close, if he looked at Cas right now, he would be lost.  Suddenly, Cas pulled out and all the warmth of his body over Dean’s was gone and a cold draft rushed in, chilling his sweaty skin.  Dean’s eyes flew open and he looked up from where he lay on his back on the kitchen table to see Cas striding away, black high heels tapping on the cheap linoleum as he muttered curses under his breath.    

 

            Dean sat up, pushing his dress down and pushing his throbbing cock back into the crotch of his negligee, “HEY! CAS! Wait,” he cried, sliding off the table and running after his boyfriend.  When he caught up to him, Cas was pacing back and forth in their bedroom.  As soon as he saw Dean, he picked up a book and threw it.  Dean ducked but still caught the heavy tome on his shoulder, “Ow, shit! What the actual fuck is your problem?!”

 

            “What is my PROBLEM?  What is MY problem?  What did I _fucking_ tell you about that?” Cas shouted back, hands on his slim hips, the pink rhinestone charm hanging from the chain between his nipple clamps glittering as it caught the light.

 

            “What did you tell me about _what_?  What did I do this time?!”  Dean kicked off his own heels and stalked right up to Cas, who was now several inches taller than him.  Don’t let it ever be said that Dean Winchester used his superior height to intimidate anyone during a fight, and that’s what this was turning into, no doubt about it.  Cas’ blue eyes sparked with fury, his nostrils flared as he huffed breath out his nose, his knuckles white where he gripped his panty-clad hips in an effort not to reach out and slap Dean in the face.

 

            “I told you to use my _damn_ name when I’m fucking you!  Not _baby,_ not _sugar,_ not _sweetheart_!” Cas fumed, glaring down at Dean.

 

            “Oh, Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Cas! Seriously?!” Dean couldn’t stop the eyeroll, even though he knew Cas hated that more than the blasphemy.

 

            “You…you…Don’t fucking blaspheme in front of _me_ , Dean Winchester!” Cas sputtered, walking around Dean as he poked an accusing finger in Dean’s chest.

 

            Dean looked down at where Cas was poking him, then looked back up at Cas with his eyebrows in his hair line.  So, he wanted this to get physical, huh?  Dean smirked as he grabbed Cas’ hand, keeping that finger sticking out.  Cas gasped, eyes gone wide as dinner plates.  Dean squeezed just enough to put Cas on notice that he was not fucking around, then he brought the finger up to his mouth.  He darted his tongue out, flicking it over the tip before drawing it into his mouth.  Working his plush lips down Cas’ finger inch by inch, Dean turned his eyes up to Cas’ face just in time to watch his eyes darken with pure lust.  Dean closed his eyes and groaned as Cas’ finger bottomed out, swirling his tongue all along the length, really getting into it.  The finger in his mouth was gone before Dean realized what Cas was doing.  Somehow, he’d managed to pry his hand loose at the same time as he pushed Dean with the other arm and was slamming him up against the wall. 

 

            Dean gasped in surprised arousal as Cas crowded into his space, face set in a grimace, and growled down at him, “You should show me some _respect_.”

 

            Dean huffed a laugh, “This comin’ from a guy in lacy black panties and a fucking garter belt.”

 

            Cas leered at Dean before crashing their lips together.  It wasn’t even a kiss so much as an all-out assault on Dean’s mouth, all clacking teeth and too much spit.  Before Dean could attempt a rebuttal, Cas was turning him and slamming him back against the wall again.  Cas gripped a handful of Dean’s carefully arranged hair and pulled hard enough to send tight little sparks of pain jolting through his scalp.  Cas held Dean’s head to the wall as he pulled the dress up over his hips.

 

            “I’ll _teach_ you to show me respect,” he grunted, pushing the scrap of silk covering Dean’s ass out of the way. 

 

            Dean smirked, “Yeah, how ya gonna do that?”

 

            “The only way you seem to understand,” Cas snarled into Dean’s ear as he prodded Dean’s asshole with the head of his dick, “with my thick cock fucking into your tight little ass.”  Cas pushed in, all the way to the hilt in one forceful stroke, moaning the whole time.  “I’m going to fuck this ass until you remember who you belong to.” Cas pulled out almost all the way and shoved back in, drawing a low groan from Dean as he struggled to adjust to the sudden fullness.  Dean pushed his hips out a bit more, arched his back and spread his legs, giving Cas better leverage to fuck into him.  “You’re going to come…ungh…on my fucking… _shit_ …cock and…yeah…you’re going to…fuck…going to say…mmm…say my fucking _name_!” 

 

            Cas fucked him mercilessly against the wall, Dean bracing both hands beside his face, drool leaking out the corner of his mouth where Cas held his head against the wall.  He still somehow managed a cocky tone when he mumbled out, “M’not sure I ‘member yet, _baby_.”

 

            Cas growled and moved both hands to Dean’s shoulders, pulling him back into every thrust as he redoubled his efforts to fuck Dean through the wall.  Dean couldn’t help the whimpering scream that tore up through his throat when Cas started pounding his prostate.  Cas took that for the sign he’d obviously been looking for and ground the head of his dick against that spot with every shove, dragging against it with every retreat.

 

            “Fuck you, Dean,” Cas grunted, “You love this…mmm…ah…too much to forget…to _ever_ fucking…ungh…forget my name…now, fucking do it…fucking say it…shit, yeah…fucking say it, you bastard!”

 

            Dean reached down to pull his aching dick out of its silky prison, only to have his arm pulled up behind his back, his hand wrenched nearly to his shoulder blade and Cas didn’t even pause, didn’t miss a beat.  That was it, that was all it took, and Dean was plummeting off the edge with a huffed cry of ‘ ** _Castiel!_** _’_ falling from his lips as he painted the wall with stripe after stripe of hot come.  He felt Cas’ thrusts stutter to a stop as he locked up, grunting out his own orgasm, just in time to add, “Mmmhmm, _baby_.”

 

            Cas pulled him away from the wall as he backed up, letting his dick slip from Dean’s abused hole.  He perp-walked him straight out the bedroom, down the hall, and through the kitchen.

 

            “Hey, what the fuck do you-“ before Dean could finish his question, he was being shoved out into the hall, his spent dick still hanging out.  Cas slammed the door and Dean clearly heard just the knob lock engage.  _Shit,_ he thought as he put himself back together somewhat, _sure hope Sammy’s home._

 

 

 

**Castiel**

            Cas fumed.  Cas raged. Cas plotted gruesome revenge.  Cas paced their living room in righteous fury.  Of course, he wasn’t going to destroy the stockings that they both loved, what an idiot!  Cas stopped pacing and raced over to the wall they shared with Sam, listening intently to see what Dean was doing over there.  He could hear their voices, but no words. 

 

            When he’d first met Sam, he couldn’t believe they were even related, they were so different.  Dean had picked Cas up at an art show in the Village one Saturday night and moved in with him on Monday.  Sam researched a new DVD player he mentioned wanting for three months.  Dean installed a bar and a bench in the shower so they could have sex in there safely.  Sam regularly ran into doorjambs.  Sam cried when the super told him he absolutely could not keep a kitten he’d found sniffing around the dumpsters in the alley.  Dean kicked a dead pigeon out of Cas’ path when they walked down to the coffee shop last Friday.  Cas had never heard Sam express sexual interest in another person the entire time he’d known him.  He had cut Dean off after a particularly nasty fight two months ago for a whole three days and Dean still referred to it as the Great Drought of 2017.  Cas had never seen to such disparate personalities stemming from the same genetic material, it was quite fascinating.

 

            Cas heard the brothers’ voices through the open living room window, but before he could make it over there to lock the damn thing, Dean was crawling in, grinning like a loon, “Surprise, motherfucker!”

 

            Cas backed up into the coffee table and grappled behind himself for something to throw at the asshole.  He lobbed the empty vase Dean had been talking about turning into a bong ( _just to see if I can_ ) straight at Dean’s chest.  He moved to avoid it, but ended up taking it in the stomach instead.  With an ‘oof’ of pain, Dean’s shoulder hit the window sill.  He hissed and turned his shoulder to look at the scratch left there from the splintery old wood.  He turned sad puppy eyes on Cas, “Great, I’m bleeding! You happy now, Cas?!”

 

            Cas’ heart sank and he ran over, stroking Dean’s face and murmuring apologies.  Dean leaned into his touch, kissing his palm before apologizing, but Cas silenced him with a tender kiss, reaching behind him to shut the window.

 

            Cas drew back, looking down at Dean’s nearly-naked body, “What happened to your dress?”

 

            “Tore it off,” he smiled, “Told Sam to throw it away.”

 

            “Hmm,” Cas hummed along Dean’s stubbly jaw, “Your makeup’s all messed up, too.” He rumbled, cock rapidly filling.  Seeing Dean all mussed, with come stains on his negligee, his feet dirty, hair a mess, lipstick smeared on his cheek, it was getting Cas all worked up again.  As much as he like dressing Dean up, he liked wrecking him a Hell of a lot more.

 

            “Yeah?” Dean asked suggestively.  Cas nodded and proceeded to suck a mark on Dean’s perfect clavicle.  Dean wasted no time dropping to his knees.  He nuzzled along the line of Cas’ hips, tonguing the lacy ruffle of the black panties before pulling them down enough to draw Cas’ half-hard dick out.  Cas groaned and sunk both hands into Dean’s honey-blond hair, not tugging, just stroking.  Dean smirked up at him as he began mouthing around the thickening head and tugging lightly on the chain attached to Cas’ nipples.  He lapped up the spurt of precum that leaked out, moaning at the taste.  Licking a stripe up Cas’ length, Dean batted his long lashes at Cas prettily, “Fuck my face, _Castiel_.  Please?”  Cas grunted and squeezed the base of his own dick, aiming it at Dean’s wet, swollen lips where they parted so nicely for him.  He wasn’t especially long, but he was certainly thick, his dick’s girth regularly stretching Dean’s pink lips until they were white with the strain.

 

“Touch yourself. I want to watch,” Cas instructed.  Dean spit in his palm quickly and fished his hard cock out of his negligee, stroking one-two-three times before tilting his face back and dropping his jaw for Cas’ use.  Cas praised him endlessly as he fed Dean his dick, starting out with teasing slides that dragged along Dean’s tongue and bumped into his palette.  Dean moaned in impatience and Cas crumbled, returning both hands to Dean’s hair but this time using it to pull Dean’s mouth along his cock, gasping as electric shocks of pleasure ran the length of his spine when his cockhead hit the back of Dean’s throat.  Dean stripped his dick faster, faster, his hand a blur as Cas stared down.  Cas couldn’t help but let loose, ramming his dick down Dean’s throat.

 

“Fuck yeah, Dean…yeah, take it so good…fucking suck my dick…my little cumslut…mmm…fuck yes…yeah, fucking choke on it…” Cas’ voice rose with each thrust into Dean’s mouth, every tear that squeezed out the corners of his pretty green eyes, his eyeliner running in gray-black tracks to join the drool that spilled out onto his chin every time Cas pulled his dick out.  Dean hummed and growled his approval, but slowed down in his own ministrations, trying to draw it out. 

 

Seeing Dean like this, on his knees, drooling around a dick in his throat, face a shambles but loving every minute of it, and all for Cas, only for Cas, it made his heart soar and his dick pulse.  He tried to give Dean some warning, “’M gonna come, Dean…gonna…”  Dean groaned and came all over his hand and the floor between his spread knees just as Cas shot down his throat, screaming ‘ _DeanDeanDean_ ’.  Cas’ legs shook as the last of his orgasm washed through him and he finally dropped to his knees in front of Dean, pulling him into a sloppy kiss.  Dean chuckled lightly and picked up the purple dildo where he’d dropped it next to them, slapping Cas’ thigh with it softly.

 

 

“Your dick tastes like my ass,” Dean laughed into Cas’ mouth.

 

“Heat of the moment,” Cas huffed back.  It had always been like this with them.  A spark was all it took and they were both consumed.  They’d been burning each other alive for three years now and Cas hoped the fire never died out, even if the it set the whole world ablaze.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a PSA, don't ever throw shit at other people, please.  
> No amount of domestic violence is ever okay, even emotional or verbal abuse.  
> That being said, haven't we all known a couple (or been a couple) like this at some point?
> 
> Ha, ha, ha, yeah, good times...


End file.
